Milkshake
by Fallen Ark Angel
Summary: Laxus doesn't have a lot of friends. Which is by design. But it's okay to add one more, ain't it? - One-shot.


When she set the milkshake down in front of him, Laxus just eyed it for a few long moments before dragging his eyes up to meet the demon's, her blues alight both with glee and almost indignation. A challenge.

"You're going to drink it, Laxus," she ordered in what might have been a dark tone, had she not let out an involuntary giggle between breaths, "and you're going to like it."

He didn't want to like it. Or drink it.

For one thing, there was a massive snowstorm going on, right outside the guildhall doors, and the huge place was absolutely impossible to heat. Impossible. Especially with just the two of them in there. The late hour did little to help either. No, it was fucking freezing in the guild, honestly, and there was no way that he wanted to lower his body temperature even further by slurping down a milkshake.

For two, he just didn't want it. Even if the sun outside was blazing and the temperature boiling, he didn't want a milkshake. At all. He knew why Mirajane thought he did, or at least why she was insistent that he at least take a sip, but he in no way felt this need himself.

For three, it would feel super childish. To drink one. Wouldn't it? The fact that Mirajane had stuck a huge twisty straw, usually reserved for Asuka, right in the middle of the thick mixture did very little to help with this perception.

But still, as he only looked on with apprehension, the barmaid beamed insistently, right into his eyes.

"I am not," he told her simply, "drinking that."

"Oh, but you are, Laxus," she insisted with a nod. "And don't forget to like it."

"Mirajane-"

"It's the only way," she kept up and it was his fault.

The whole thing.

His whole life, sometimes, it felt like.

As he sat there, watching the cherry atop his milkshake sink lower into the frothy concoction, it was hard not to find blame in himself. He knew how Mirajane Strauss was. By which he meant, of course, completely kooky and off her rocker. Why was it then that he found himself opening up to her?

Sigh.

The old man, Gramps, well, he just wasn't feeling too well recently and, with it snowing so much the past few days, Laxus offered to do anything up at the hall for him that he needed. Anything at all. Just so the old man didn't leave his house. And though Gramps griped, Makarov did seem to see the necessity in this.

His only grumbled direction, however, was, "Ask Mirajane."

"Ask her what?" Laxus had questioned back, perhaps a bit dumbly.

"What you need to do," Makarov barked right back. Stifling a bit, he settled back into bed as Laxus stood over it, having forced the man to get right back in it only minutes before. "She's the one who would know. She knows everything about the guildhall."

And she did.

Mirajane enjoyed her job, out there serving drinks and soaking up juicy gossip, but it was hardly the extent of her work. Oh, no. Master Makarov relied on her for much of the behind the sense things and, well, she'd kind of been putting off telling him about a few things, recently. Things that weren't necessarily time-sensitive, but if Laxus was willing to preform some forgery (he was a Dreyar, right; who cared which one) as well as put his complete and utter blind faith in her judgment, then, well, she could knock out some work alright.

She was just lucky, the slayer insisted to himself as his entire day was eaten up by the woman's endless tasks and requests, that the Thunder Legion were out and therefore he was free. Erza had snagged the job he wanted and he'd been planning to sulk around about it for a bit, but, well, this kept him from drinking all day, at least.

Still, she seemed to just go on and on and, before he knew it, the night was upon them and she still had him there, down on his knees, tightening up a pipe in the kitchen area.

"I just worry," Mira was sighing a bit, "about the pipes bursting. I always do. I mean, I always have the exposed ones cover and I do that thing where you drip water, just a bit, you know?"

"No," Laxus grumbled from where he was busy breaking his back for the woman. "I don't."

But she only giggled and there was something about her. That he couldn't admit to himself, not even as he'd spent the entire day doing her needless bidding. Mirajane reminded him that it was doable. All of it. What he was grasping at, sometimes, now. With the guild. She...changed. For as horrific as a catalyst as it was, something made her change and she followed through and now she was this A person who didn't hate everyone and everything and actually seemed pretty high on life most of the time.

And that was before her sister came back, even.

.Though she was for sure an extreme example, Mirajane was a good one to remind him that, hey, no matter what, if you try hard enough, if you don't give into it, into yourself, then you can be better. You will be better.

Good people aren't just born that way; they struggle for it. And Mirajane showed that it was worth it.

Plus...well…

Maybe he was kinda sweet on her.

Maybe just a bit.

"Where is everyone?" he complained as he walked a bit funny, maybe, because his back was killing him as the pair found themselves in the empty guildhall finally.

"It's closing time, silly."

"It's what?" he griped with a glare, but Mirajane only smiled with a giggle.

"It's also coming down really hard outside," she remarked as they could hear it, in the utter silence of the hall. The snow of heavy snow falling on the other side of the thick guildhall doors. Laxus hadn't been in the hall when it was so empty in...in...in a long ass time.

It unnerved him for some reason.

"Yeah, well," he grumbled a bit in reply, uncertain of what else there was to say. IT wasn't as if the two of them were known for striking up conversations together. One or two, here or there, and maybe more than he had with most, but after spending all those hours together, he figured they were all dried up on conversation for the next month. At least.

Boy, was he wrong.

"What were your plans for today then?" she asked as she waltzed across the cool barroom floor, back over to her typical position behind the bar. As she began to extract jewels from the register, she added, "Before I made you help out?"

He could have been super pissy at her, as he'd been pretending the entire afternoon and evening over this little excursion, but…

"I was just gonna drink," he said honestly. "All day."

"Well," she began as, setting the jewels she was counting out down on the counter, the woman turned to grab a pitcher of ale and a mug, "the least I can do is treat you to some right now, huh?"

Laxus should have gone home. Something inside of him told him he should go home. Everything outside of him, especially the worsening conditions beyond the guildhall doors, told him to head home.

"One drink won't hurt," he decided as Mirajane only smiled, not having one herself, he'd never seen her have one herself, but maybe that's why she was a reformed bad person and he was just still learning.

He put it back while the woman busied herself around the bar. While the man had some inkling that closing up the place each night wasn't a pleasurable activity, actually watching the woman move so effortlessly through the laundry list was impressive. Without any prompting from him though, she seemed to note that he'd finished his beer and rushed right over for a refill.

Again, the hesitation was there from the man, but…

"What's one more?" he asked and, for a guy his size, not much, but just enough to loosen the tongue and how did it happen?

How did he get there?

How did he find himself mentioning to Mirajane Strauss something so personal? So deep? So close to the vest? He could blame the alcohol, if he wanted, but the woman hardly had to even prod him, if she did at all, before he found himself just spilling his guts to her.

"We used to go out in the snow," Mira was sighing as she seemed to be a bit more aimless now, just wiping down the bar absently, there, in front of him, "when I was little, with my parents. And, like, we'd pour sap, you know? Over it? And then eat it."

Laxus made a face at her before remarking, "Not a lot to eat, huh? Out in the sticks?"

"We did that for fun, Laxus. It was a fun activity. A treat."

"Sure."

She made something of a face then, maybe, before whatever deprogramming she'd used to never be a normal person again and just a bubbly happy one took over. As the woman looked away, she seemed to think before asking, "Didn't you ever do something special? With your mother, I mean?"

It wasn't a one to one situation, but he did find himself revealing what he did next. Maybe it was because no one had asked about her, his mother, in so long. No one seemed brave enough. He doubted most even knew what ever happened to her. But given Mira's long association with the guild, as well as strong ties with his grandfather, Laxus wasn't too surprised by her bravery. And given the fact that she'd just somehow conned him into free manual labor for an entire day, he figured he should stop being shocked by the woman's charms.

She worked them on every other man in the guild. Why should he feel so special?

_Why did he feel so special?_

"My mom," he began though it didn't feel like it, really, him talking, "used to make me, like, these really big...milkshakes."

He looked up at the woman then and could see a bit of her skepticism boring through the facade and she seemed to think he was setting up for some lame joke like the other men in the hall. But he wasn't. His eyes were filled with honesty.

"She'd make it so thick and sweet and just…" He coughed then, feeling kind of dumb, honestly, but still added, "I haven't had one since she died."

"What do you mean?"

"A malt. Milkshake. Whatever. I haven't… When I was a kid, I just didn't get one. If I went to the ice cream shop."

"Because it would remind you of her?"

He was just as honest then as he insisted, "Before none would ever taste as good."

And that was a challenge, it seemed like, as Mirajane smiled at him while remarking, "Some people think I make a pretty good one too."

"I mean, you grew up eating literal brown snow, so-"

"Sit," Mira ordered before rushing away, "and wait."

He shouldn't have. He should have called out to her and ended it all, finally, but she was rushing off to the deep freeze, down in the basement, to find some ice cream, and he was just going to sit there. Accepting this. Dealing with this.

Because he was special. And this was special. He and Mirajane were friends, more so than any of the other losers that salivated at her feet and this was the exact kind of ribbing friends put up with.

Only, Mirajane wasn't ribbing. At all. Mirajane was completely serious and when she arrived from the back with a glass filled with delicious sugar and whipped toppping, Laxus had only himself to blame.

Again.

Like always.

"I don't," he told the woman then, "eat cherries."

And that was fine, it seemed, as Mirajane plucked the little red fruit from where it rested atop the fluffy white cream, tossing it back into her own mouth with the same ease he'd downed the drinks.

"They're not," she agreed with an equally antagonizing tone, "for everyone."

"What are we even trying to prove?" he questioned then. "That you make a better milkshake than my dead mother?"

The bluntness had been intended to deflate her sails a bit, but this somehow missed the mark as the white haired woman only shrugged a bit as she replied, "You're the only person who could ever know for certain. If my milkshake is better than the nostalgia-laced trauma of your mother's death, then I can tell people, with certainty, I make the best milkshake."

"You're a fucking psycho, you know that?" He knew it, anyways. He always had. Even if the others never seemed to see it anymore, he knew that buried deep beneath all the things that kept her the perky, innocent barmaid she was today lied the same darkness that he was still battling to subdue. "Certifiable."

"Take," she insisted once more, "a sip."

It was fucking freezing in the bar and, even with his fluffy coat draped over his shoulders, Laxus felt a strange cold shiver travel up his back. Yet there was Mirajane Strauss, in her typical dress, bare arms, no extra padding at all, non too slyly licking the whipped cream off her finger tips, residuals from her cherry taking.

"What happens if you win? Or lose?"

"Well," Mira hummed, "I really don't think your dead mother is gonna pony up a prize if she loses-"

"Goddamn, Mirajane." He wasn't annoyed. Or bothered. Shaken. If anything, just in awe. "You're just gonna really go there tonight, huh?"

"What's a little humor between orphans?" she asked, but this time, her tone was tainted with something different then. A sadness, almost, maybe. But as she looked away, feeling something of the heaviness then, maybe even regretting her own cavalier attitude towards the topic.

But it was then, as she considered this, that Laxus took the plunge. Or at the very least it was in that moment that he braved hypothermia and reached out to grasp the glass. Pulling it closer, he sucked down enough of the icy mixture to send a sharp pain up through his cranium, but was hard to bemoan the action when ti brought a bright smile right back to the barmaid's lips.

"So?" she prompted, eyes alight as a storm raged outside, bringing the heaviest of snow, the deadliest of ice.

He blinked, hard, a heavy weight coming over him momentarily. But when he opened his eyes and found hers there, still, waiting so expectantly, he couldn't linger on the darkness for long. Instead, he only found his voice.

"Nowhere near," he told her simply, "as good as my mother's."

"Shoot." Mira huffed some then, pouting, maybe, but this was never an emotion that she felt for long. Just as quickly she was bubbly once more as she insisted, "Then I'll just have to keep trying."

"Why?" he proposed right back, but Mirajane only titled her head to the side, staring hard at him for once, truly.

"Because we're friends, Laxus," she insisted then. "Aren't we?"

He didn't know.

Or at least he didn't before that very moment.

She was always someone he could tolerate, more than all the other annoying younger kids, when they were teens. And then she kind of became someone he pitied, honestly, but beneath that…

He knew he was stronger than her. A better trained mage. But Mirajane had something inside of her, something far more fearsome than his lacrima, and he liked it best when it was contained.

Well, mostly.

Nowadays, he found her to be more on his level, mentally, than all the others. Not the Thunder Legion, of course, but the rest of them…

Mirajane knew what the apex tasted like. And she also knew what it meant to depart from it. She was the better person he wanted (to a lesser degree, of course) to be one day, hopefully, eventually. She was easy to talk to, given all their commonalities, and he just…

He'd never thought about it before.

What they were to one another.

"Yeah, Mira," he agreed as a grin spread across his own face. Just a light one, hardly even one at all, but he could tell she took notice. "We're friends."

The storm subsided eventually. Just enough for them to escape the hall. As they skid through the streets in opposite directions though, the hours they spent together already becoming distant, a memory, Laxus just hoped that it felt as important to her as it did to him.

Which it seemed to, maybe, as when he found himself at the hall a few days later, coming to join the Thunder Legion at their table, Mirajane seemed to key in on him quickly.

"Here, Laxus!" She bounded over to him a few minutes later with a special drink, just for him. A milkshake, of course. "And look, this straw even loopier, don't you think?"

Laxus felt a heat spread across his body as the barmaid set this before him, some others taking note and glancing over, but Mirajane paid no one any mind. She winked at the man, made some sort of comment implying him getting back to her on the best milkshake he'd ever had, before disappearing once more. Err, well, no, not disappearing. Getting back to work. But Laxus could focus on nothing now other than anything that wasn't the woman, so she might as well have.

"What," Evergreen hissed, at him of all people, under her breath as she feared, no doubt, the man being involved with a Strauss as well, "was that about?"

"Yes, Laxus." Freed seemed most concerned as well. "Why has Mirajane presented you with a-"

"We're," the slayer grumbled through ground teeth, "friends."

"Friends, eh?" Bickslow had no problem with reaching over to snatch at the man's beverage. "Well, me and you are friends too, huh? So what do ya say you slide that on over-"

"Papa!" the seith's babies cried out as he was struck then by a sharp lightning strike, falling out of his chair even, as all his muscles seized. "Papa!"

But after sending a warning glare around at anyone else who might think to tease him over this, Laxus only pulled his drink closer, taking a sip as his eyes slipped shut. He could hear her nearby, Mirajane, giggling with one of the other stupid women in the bar about something, he imagined, was equally as stupid, but it was fine. Just as well.

Savoring the taste in his mouth, Laxus swallowed as he blinked his eyes open lazily once more.

It still wasn't as good.

But, if it meant the woman had to keep trying, well…

Maybe being friends wasn't so bad.

Maybe.


End file.
